The Dawn
by Verboten Byacolate
Summary: Crack, Akatsuki/Anyone pairings. 4. HidanIno. The defiant, vengeful little girl brought him back of her own free will. She was supposed to know that he would fight back.
1. KisaTen: Dunkelrot

_Pairing_: KisaTen(Neji)  
_Theme_: dark red_  
Genre_: angst, tragedy, romance_  
Rating_: hard T, light M  
_Description_: slightly smutty darkfic. Akatsuki-flavored Tenten. It's all good._  
Warning_; Character death. Lots of it. Massacre, in fact. But how else could it be a darkfic, hmm?

**The Dawn**

_Dunkelrot_

_- Wash away the blood so that only the rain remains  
__And let the night disguise your tears as rain -_

Her blades no longer flash brilliantly in the light of the sun, but instead they glow illusively in the cold shine of the moon. Tonight they glow a liquid red—one that is _not_ the fault of dearest Luna above. Blood covered the whole area around them, the perimeter three meters each way. Give or take. The chill of the December night was rivaled by that of her smile. It was all she could do because to turn and face the onslaught aftershock that _these people, this kill,_ would cause would be to admit defeat.

"T… Ten… ten…" came a strangled cry from behind her. The sound made the woman's smile freeze further.

"You said it would be quick, Kisame-san," she said, the frigidity of her voice raising unbidden goose bumps on those left alive. When she did turn, despite her lack of resolve, she saw the words flicker and die in his eyes as one of the stained kunai left her fingertips and hit its mark. _You aren't Tenten_.

_I know_. She sighed, turning back to the man before her. The pained, mournful, penultimate-mortem cry of her old sensei nearly made her flinch. It wasn't until the dying form that had earlier brought her to her knees quivered beneath her that she had any involuntary reaction at all.

The moon disappeared behind a dark, angry cloud. Her blade, slick with the blood of comrades, pressed itself against his temple. His eyes flickered open at the contact and she smiled once more.

"Itachi-san has killed Gai-sensei, Neji. Lee went faster than him, though. Less painful, I think." She smiled wickedly. "He was like a brother to me, so I would hope that he didn't suffer too much. But Kisame is ruthless, and so I can't promise anything."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she knew that he couldn't; she'd damaged his throat only a mere three minutes ago, slicing it with one of her discarded shuriken. If he tried to talk, only blood would leave his mouth. Straddling his waist, she leaned closer to his face, her lips barely crushing his earlobe. The kunai in her fingers slid a precise two centimeters along his temple.

"Are you losing your mind yet... Neji?"

A silent moan was lifted from his lips when her skilled fingers skimmed gracefully along his broken jawline. She smiled.

"I loved you, you know," she said quietly; words Kisame was not meant to hear. "I used to. Fortunately feelings and emotions are fickle."

His lips, cracked and bloody, parted and molded themselves into the words that had turned out to be Lee's dying thoughts… and her own.

"I _am_ Tenten, though," she assured him, and her new, cold smile immediately morphed into a replica of her old playful one. Her eyes, though, no longer resembled molten chocolate. They were cold, calculating, and most of all, lonely. Or rather, they portrayed her lonely heart.

"And you told _me_ to be quick," came a gruff voice. Tenten ignored it. "Hypocrite," Kisame snorted, folding his arms across his chest and staring at her back warily.

"He's special," Tenten eventually allowed, combing Neji's strayed hair between her bloodstained hands.

"Biased hypocrite then." The tall man sighed. "Do you plan to excite him and then kill him?" Kisame asked, his voice containing a humored lilt. Tenten grinned at the pale man's face. Fingers chilled by the night left a trail of gooseflesh along the Hyuuga's bare skin; a trail to follow him in death. Hands worn from expertise danced slowly from his collar, over silken white robes, past an expanse of even brown buttons (his eyes widened and her smile grew), farther and farther still.

"Maybe," she murmured fingering the waistband of his pants, and was taken over by the sudden urge to wet his dried lips. Her cheek brushed his as she rose from his ear, and she faced him fully. Her tongue ran over his parted lips, moistening the flesh as she was sure no one had before. His breath hitched when her tongue slithered into his mouth, taking instant possession of his own. Neji's heart raced under another of her kunai, the beat reverberating through the fingertips of her right hand as her left slipped beneath the elastic of his hakama.

"Do you honestly plan to take him?" Kisame asked chidingly. "Here? Now? Isn't it rather unromantic?"

Tenten smirked, lifting herself into a sitting position once more and licked Neji's blood from her lips.

"No." She removed her hand from his groin and slid the wet fingers along her tongue. "Hyuuga-san will unfortunately die a virgin."

Kisame chuckled. "It's not unfortunate. You'd be too rough for him, Tenten-san."

"Is that a compliment?" she asked coolly, tracing figure 8s along the buttons on Neji's shirt with the first kunai; the one that had been previously been scraping his temple. The blade's curving trail ended at the bottom of his traditional Hyuuga robe and swung to the right in a heavy arc. It crept upward. "I used to love you, Neji." Precise, murderous steel paused over his heart, which beat faster by the minute. "It's too bad, huh?"

Lavender eyes widened as they witnessed two glittering drops of crystal liquid slide in parallel tracks down her cheeks.

His heart ceased to beat when the dark clouds above finally gave way to their heavy load.

"They'll find the bodies in four days, at most," she said, leaving the kunai sticking out of Neji's chest. It was her signature metalwork; she wanted them to know exactly who had been capable of killing loved ones. Itachi wasn't the only one with the ability. "Konoha tends to become quite suspicious when they don't hear back from a team that's reached their destination."

"Are you crying?"

She gave him a sharp glance. "Don't you know that it's _raining_, Kisame-san?"

He stepped toward her and held out his hand.

"Come here."

She obeyed, and he pulled her flush against him. Kisame took her chin between his right thumb and index finger, tilting her head up toward him—toward the thundering sky. He lowered his own face to hers, tongue brashly protruding from thin blue lips and touching her pale cheek.

"The rain doesn't taste of salt like you do, Tenten-san," he murmured in his gravelly tones near her eye. She sighed, her cold wet body falling into his.

"They were my comrades; my only family. And I'm only human. I… really did love them." Her arms drooped to his sides. "Have I failed for nearly losing my nerve?"

"No," he replied, his teeth skimming lightly over the shell of her ear. "Leader-sama wanted to see if you could kill them. And they were a nuisance to our mission anyway."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I won't tell him that you were remorseful."

She sighed. "I am exhausted."

"Not yet you're not." He let her go and turned. "Itachi-san is waiting for us."

She glanced sadly at the wide-eyed, beautiful corpse beside her and crouched low, gently sliding the lids back over his eyes. "I'm coming," she said softly, standing once more.

Her blades no longer shine brilliantly in the light of the sun.

"If you loved them so much," Kisame said, allowing her to lean on his shoulder for the leg wound that made her hobble along, "why did you leave them for a bunch of criminals?"

Instead, they glow with the wicked light of the moon. A glow that penetrates a deep crimson liquid that stains each handcrafted piece of steel; her works of art.

"That… isn't something I'm ready to tell you." She lowered her eyes. "Not yet."

Silence reigned over the companions. But the rain overthrew the silence, dominating all as it always did. And as salt met with the bitter, pungent scarlet, the dawn rose from the dark.

A new day had begun.

_- Fin -_

**This has potential to become ANOTHER oneshot collection. An Akatsuki-centered one. I shouldn't be writing anything new. But I've been banned from my comp, and the only reason I'm able to write this because my mom is under the pretense that I'm working on a book report. And I totally will. Eventually. But I'd written this at school, and I couldn't wait to share it.  
****Up next is a TobiHina. It'll be out soon, I hope. Those book reports sure can take a long time to write…  
****-Bya****  
P.S.- Dunkelrot is 'dark red' in German. At least I know that much!**


	2. HidanHina: Venia

_Pairing_: HidanHinata  
_Theme_: venia (grace)_  
Genre_: angst, romance, spiritual_  
Rating_: T  
_Description_: short, bloody faith-based HidanHina inspired by a picture I drew during German._  
Warning_; blood. A little bit. Just enough to stain your shirt.

**The Dawn**

_Venia_

_- Taint me with your love  
Draw me in with your soul  
And let me breathe again -_

He was still holding her.

His arms, thin, strong limbs coiled possessively around her waist, his chest pressed against her shoulder blades. His hands clutched her white dress as they kneeled on the cold stone floor of her prison. Their prayers could easily be mistaken for passion. Their confessions could quickly be dismissed as a kiss.

Their cleansing could be identified as a moment between lovers. But only to the faithless.

The ritual went as it had for as long as they could remember; he would come to her only when he couldn't feel his neck attached to his shoulders, and she would take his head in her hands as he took her in his arms and they would confess.

His blood, warm crimson, would taint her dress; his presence, her purity. His tongue would repent, her lips would forgive.

Always. Forever.

She wept silently, mourning his deathless life, his free, caged existence. One he would someday have to spend without her. One he was bound to until after eternity. She wept and begged and pleaded and comforted and made him whole.

He was still holding her.

_- Fin -_

**I'm still writing that TobiHina. Seriously.  
-Bya  
P.S.- Venia is "grace" in Latin.**


	3. KisaKonan: Mordues

_Pairing_: KisaKonan  
_Theme_: bitten_  
Genre_: gen, romance (maybe?)  
_Rating_: K  
_Description_: Konan and Kisame meet for the first time; his first impression is an accidental bite on the hand. Poor Konan._  
Warning_; none... it's actually pretty lighthearted. Should THAT be cause for a warning...? -ponders-

**The Dawn**

_Mordues_

_- Paint me the color of the morning rain  
and I'll forgive the gash in my flesh-_

Konan glanced sideways at Kisame and nearly sighed.

"Kisame-san, I do not approve."

The Hoshigaki son retracted his mouth from her hand, grinning. "My apologies, Konan-san. It was an accident. They slipped out."

"Keep your teeth in check, Kisame-san." Small, cool fingers slipped from his. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

This was not the first impression that Kisame had been hoping for. "Same," he replied, straightening. "I apologize on behalf of Itachi-san. He wasn't aware that we were going to be introduced to... you." She nodded once in response.

"I don't blame him. Pein isn't quite formal when he needs to be."

"Itachi-san is the same. Not quite polite enough when it counts."

"I suppose you and I are in the same boat, then." Eyes, the perfect resemblance of chipped blue ice, pierced nonchalantly up at him. Sure, he'd play along, grinning like a fool who knew a secret.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Leader-sama's partner glanced down at her hand. Five visible teethmarks still stared up at them. Accidental teeth marks caused by the instinctual protrusion of very pointy teeth. Konan-san didn't seem too terribly perturbed so he'd act as though nothing of note had happened. He noticed offhandedly that, while his nails were slightly chipped of their dark purple polish, hers were perfect. She obviously had nothing better to do while being cooped up here in this hellish, boring hideout while her partner was away. He should invite her to come paint with them sometime.

(Team bonding of sorts, perhaps?)

"Hey, Konan-san?"

"Yes?" She looked back up at him, dropping her arms to her sides. A few thick strands of midnight-sky hair fell in front of the cool winter-sky eyes, and made her look nearly (actually, it was more of a "very" but why stress that thought on their first meeting?) endeering.

"Don't tell Leader-sama, yeah?" he grinned toothily. "He might not favor me too much if he found out I bit his girl."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not his girl. But I won't tell him."

"Thanks," he replied. "And, if you're bored, I can introduce you to the others... like Zetsu!"

"That would be... nice."

"And there's nothing better to do."

"... That's true."

He leant his elbow to her. "Shall we?"

She refused to hesitate, accepting the elbow with her arm, sliding it through. "We shall, Kisame-san."

- _Fin _-

**Heh... that TobiHina is still a WIP... -sweat- So! My first KisaKonan! I know, right? Phailure. But it was kinda fun. 8D Sorry, Peinwithoutlove. Only in my crackish fantasies. _Mordues_ is "bitten" in French. I posted this on my LJ like... four days ago. I didn't really want it on ff.n, but I realized that I hadn't posted anything Naruto (in English)for a while... so here it is. (Sorrysorry!)  
Reviews would be absolutely lovely  
-Bya**

**Is ff.n pissing anyone ELSE off with the way all of the words are smooshing to-fucking-gether all the time? Seriously. I've had to go take time out of my busy schedule to re-edit a few things, and I'm getting pissed. Grawr.**


	4. HidanIno: élet

_Pairing_: HidanIno  
_Theme_: life_  
Genre_: horror, drama... romance?  
_Rating_: hard T, light M  
_Description_: slightly smutty darkfic (think _Dunkelrot_ with less killing and more blood)  
_Warning_; bloody blood-filled bloodbath. With some blood in it. And then there's the blood to consider. (but, really, there's not that much...)

**The Dawn**

_élet_

_- You're like an angel  
made of crimson and loyalty  
that lets me live again -_

He cuts into her flesh without a second thought, prepared and willing to hear her screams. He doesn't mind the blood soaking her skin, caking her hair; he thinks she's beautiful that way.

The little, defiant, vengeful girl brought him back of her own free will. She was supposed to know that he would fight back.

_"I don't need my scythe to kill you, fucking whore."_

An empty threat, one that had gone on for a month (or was it two?)

She must be a glutton for pain (just like him, they have so much in common, masochist and filthy wench) because she twists into his blade, crying out, kicking him back, but not far enough to keep him from coming at her again. And again. And again.

_"Don't threaten me, murderous bastard. Don't cut so deep. Don't cut me there!"_

Much stronger, more capable hands pin her shoulders roughly to the soft earth, fingernails digging crescent-shaped trenches into her smooth, pale flesh. He doesn't take note of the water and blood gushing from her eyes and lips. (Well, that's a lie, because he leans down to taste the warm crimson liquid, which is simply flavored further by the salt of her tears, and it's all running into her hair, and oh, it just doesn't stop)

She doesn't move away when soft pink tissue meets soft bloody tissue. He's a little surprised, but more than cocky enough.

_"You should have left me in that hole, bitch. Don't you bite me!"_

But she doesn't relent, her teeth ripping fiercely at the flesh of his mouth, and he can't help but respect her persistant ferocity, and he happily bites back.

He can feel his skin break, and that's just fine. Pain is the one true mercy; consistant, true, awakening. The little blonde girl didn't get it yet, but by the time he was through with her, she would.

They had all the time in the world. She'd sworn herself to him, after all.

_"Anything,"_ she'd said, already tied to the headboard of their shared hotel matress. _"Just don't go back for him."_

_"Your damned teammate means that much to you, seriously."_ It had been more of a confirming statement than a question, but she'd nodded anyway. _"Anything you do, you're mine."_

_"But you can't hurt him."_

_"Can you swear by it?"_

_"I want your promise first."_

Neither verbally gave in, but the silent vow was there.

As long as she remained, converted, bled, he wouldn't go pineapple hunting.

Mixed emotions fuelled him for her selflessness toward the jackass that had been the one to do him in for the better part of three years (all hope for escape had nearly been lost, until the whore came and put him back together before he could do it himself, swearing to stay as long as he didn't go): respect at the loyalty. Resentment at the love she let bleed from her (and still her partner did not come). Jealousy at the sheer loyalty (would anyone ever do something so reckless and pure and compassionate for him?).

Even bliss-- she gave him pain; she gave him companionship; she gave him life.

When he became most envious, one thing satiated him. He would lean over her panting, exhausted form, untie her, and pull her against to him so their wounds would heal together, their weak heartbeats strengthening as one.

_"Your bloodshed is for him, Yamanaka, but your tears are for me. Don't ever fucking forget it."_

- Fin -

**The word "élet" means "life" in Hungarian.  
I SWEAR I'LL GET THAT TOBIHINA OUT EVENTUALLY. However, I think the next one is going to be a WIP KakuHina, "Komisch" (see if you can figure out what that means -winkwink-)  
Reviews feed me! Don't let me go hungry!!  
-Bya**


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